Tears, Idle Tears
by Marie of Romania
Summary: The war is over, and Voldemort is defeated.  But nothing will ever be the same, not to George Weasley.  His tears signify the hurt he feels, but his laughter signifies the realization that he will now have to live for two. [Spoilers for Deathly Hallows]


**SPOILERS! DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT READ DEATHLY HALLOWS!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the Weasley twins, no matter how much I want to.**

**A/N: So this is a short little chapter I wrote up in honor of Fred Weasley's memory. I loved (and still love) the twins, they always make me smile. Fred was always my favorite of the two, though I'm not sure why. This was very difficult for me to write, seeing as I couldn't see anything properly through my tears, but I managed it, somehow. It's my way of grieving.**

oOoOoOo

**Tears, Idle Tears**

Lord Alfred Tennyson

_Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,_

_Tears from the depth of some divine despair_

_Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,_

_In looking on the happy Autumn-fields,_

_And thinking of the days that are no more._

_Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail,_

_That brings our friends up from the underworld,_

_Sad as the last which reddens over one_

_That sinks with all we love below the verge;_

_So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more._

_Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns_

_The earliest pipe of half-awakened birds_

_To dying ears, when unto dying eyes_

_The casement slowly grows a glimmering square;_

_So sad, so strange, the days that are no more._

_Dear as remembered kisses after death,_

_And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feigned_

_On lips that are for others; deep as love,_

_Deep as first love, and wild with all regret;_

_O Death in Life, the days that are no more!_

oOoOoOo

George Weasley faced Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, staring at the dusty window covered in colorful posters, advertising their products. The flickering U-NO-POO sign seemed to mock him as he glared. _Better take that down soon_, he mused gloomily. Voldemort was dead. He tore his eyes away from the sign, and dug his hand into his pockets, searching for his wand.

It had been a long time since he'd been here. A very long time.

His pocket was stuffed with Puking Pastilles wrappers and few Extendable Ears here and there. But finally his fingers found his wand and he drew it out, pointing at the door and murmuring the incantation to unlock it. He heard the lock click, and he opened the door and crossed the threshold.

Their shop- no, _his _shop- was just how they had left it. Packed from top to bottom with their products; most of them strewn across the shelves in no particular order.

Yes, it was exactly how they left it; only, the place was devoid of its usual cheer. There were no hustling and bustling crowds, for instance, waiting in line to buy their Canary Creams, or their Wildfire Whiz-Bangs, or their Ton-Tongue Toffees. And everything was blanketed in dust and cobwebs. Not that the store was very clean in the first place; he and his brother weren't too keen on house-keeping.

_His brother_. Fred. _There was no Fred_. That was probably the most depressing factor about the shop.

George could feel a lump in his throat, and he swallowed it down, hard, and forced himself to close the door he had left wide open behind him.

Fred was gone. _Dead._ Killed by those bastards that called themselves Death Eaters.

George wished desperately that he could have been there when Fred died, wished he could have saved him, could have protected him…

He had died laughing, Percy told George later, laughing because Percy had made a joke…

Laughing, always laughing. That's what George did. That's what Fred did. _They laughed,_ and they laughed _together_, always together.

Well, George hadn't laughed since his brother died, hadn't even been able to crack a smile. Not even when Voldemort was killed by Harry, Harry who didn't die, didn't give up. Harry never gave up.

George closed his eyes tightly, willing the tears that were building up behind his eyes to fade away…

All those people, dead…Lupin, the last of the Marauders, Tonks, his loving wife, Dobby, the funny little house-elf, Mad-Eye, strong and tough until the end, Snape…

He didn't know what to feel about Snape. He had always despised the old bat, especially after he killed Dumbledore, and George hadn't exactly fallen in love with the man after he sliced off his ear…but then Harry informed him that Snape had been working for the Order all along, Dumbledore had asked him to kill him; he was dying anyway.

George glanced at a small mirror hanging on the wall across from the love potions, meant to give their female costumers a chance to try on some of their beautifying products. He stared into his reflection, but didn't see George. Instead he saw a pale boy, in his late teens, early twenties maybe, his many freckles standing out against his graying skin. Dark circles under his eyes caused them to stand out, wide and very blue. Eyes that usually held some sort of laughter in them, he knew because Fred's were the same, the same bright blue eyes. But now his eyes were dark and dull. Bloodshot. Miserable.

He could see tears welling up in those eyes, and he looked away, instead focusing on that dark hole on the side of his head, hiding beneath his red hair, that gaping hole that used to be his ear. That hole was only thing that had separated his twin from being completely identical to him those last months. The only difference.

George felt a twinge of pain, somewhere in his chest, as he remembered the night of Fred's death, recalling the sight of his twin lying dead in front of him. Except for what used to be George's ear, it was exactly like looking in a mirror, staring at Fred's peaceful face, his closed eyes, George begging for him to open those eyes, begging for Fred to wake up and tell them he was joking, that he was okay. But those eyes never did open. He never did wake up, it never was a joke. Fred Weasley was gone forever, out of George's reach. They would never be together again, at least not alive together.

George missed his brother. Finally, succumbing to the pain, George could feel the hot tears rolling down his cheeks, dripping down his chin.

George would never be the same without his twin brother, he knew that. It was like half of his body, or his soul, was missing. He'd have to learn to live without it. He'd never be complete again.

He opened his eyes, not aware that he'd closed them. His reflection gazed back at him, that sad, tired boy, that boy with the tears glistening on his face. George imagined that instead of staring at his own reflection, he was looking at Fred. He found himself searching Fred's gaze, taking in every detail, every freckle.

It was true; George did miss Fred, missed him deeply, and would miss him always. And he knew for sure that wherever Fred was, he missed him too.

George stared into the mirror. Fred stared back. George watched carefully as Fred's lips curled into a crooked grin, that same crooked grin that George always wore. George touched his lips and found that he was grinning too. A strange thought suddenly occurred to George as he smiled at his brother though the mirror. Now that Fred was gone, didn't that mean that George was responsible for living for the both of them now?

"Excellent idea, Fred," commended George, laughing through his tears.

"One of my best, George," replied Fred, laughing along.

oOoOoOo

**A/N: Rest in Peace, Fred Weasley. George loves you, and so did I.**


End file.
